A New Day
by de la mer
Summary: Newly Updated. Eowyn and Faramir struggle to balance their duties to their people with their love for each other. Set between Aragorn's Coronation and the Troth Plighting in Edoras.
1. 1

Author's Note: Neither "The Lord of the Rings" nor the characters within belong to me (I'd take Faramir if I could, though). I also do not claim to be anything near the writer that Tolkien is and never will be. :O) I started this story at sea, on long nights when I couldn't fall asleep and long nights on my feet when I couldn't stay awake. I always felt like there was something missing from Faramir and Éowyn's stories and that Éowyn left her brother, her people and her homeland rather easily. I hope you enjoy the story.  
  
*Update: I have changed the story slightly in chapters 1 and 3 so far (3 more than 1). I wanted to address the issue of Faramir asking Éomer's permission. Tell me what you think!  
  
The coming dawn drew slowly upon Gondor. Neither light nor glow, but instead a dull outline, where before there had only been darkness. First the far mountains became visible, like shadows out of mist. Then the fields below came into view, colorless and mysterious, still hiding the scars of battle; scorched earth stretching away from the gates of Minas Tirith. Slowly the gray became purple and pink, and the Eastern sky was set on fire with the coming of the sun. This scene had been replayed every day for years without number, but on this morning all the people of Gondor arose to watch. For today their King would return, and the banner of the Stewards, protectors of the realm, would fly no more over Minas Tirith. The people stood on rooftops, in the streets and high on the walls surrounding the city, hoping to be the first to announce the King's approach. And though most stared out into the fading darkness, some turned their heads back to the walls above them, and strained their eyes through the mist to see two figures, Lord Faramir the Steward, and Lady Éowyn of Rohan, who stood high above them in the courtyard of the tower. They watched their ruler as one would watch a star at dawn, knowing that it would soon disappear with the coming of the sun.  
  
Neither Éowyn nor Faramir had been able to sleep, and they had instead spent the night walking through the quiet streets and courtyards, sharing their dreams and fears and simply enjoying the nearness of the other. "It is strange," Faramir said quietly as they walked, hand in hand, and stopped in the courtyard overlooking the city below, "that the Stewardship has claimed the lives of all my family, and yet I remain only to hand over responsibility to another. My mother was born near the sea and grew up loving freedom and companionship. But she fell in love with my father the Steward instead, and was given little more than a gilded cage. My father saw the marriage as good for Gondor, and he filed my mother away with all of the other treaties he had accumulated, left to gather dust. She could not live like that, Éowyn, and it killed her. Too late, my father saw what he had done. He was consumed with guilt, and hardened his heart to me, though as a child I never understood, and always tried to please him, but failed. I think he always saw himself in me and simply could not forgive." Faramir intently ran his fingers along the edge of one of the stones as he spoke.  
  
"My brother, Boromir, was not like either of us," he continued. "He was confident and sure. To my father he was hope for our people, for Boromir, it seemed, could never fail. To me my brother was a protector, shielding me from my father's wrath and giving me the love that I would never get from him. My father never realized that he loved me until he thought that I, like my mother, was lost to him. But why do I remain, Éowyn? I, who desired neither power nor status. I wished only to serve my people, to die for them if necessary. My father and brother wished to lead them, and died instead." Faramir closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.  
  
"Life is strange, is it not? Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and it seems that all around me is fire again and my father is the one pouring the oil upon me. I want to curse him, to curse his title, to curse the war and this whole world. I want to scream out in the dream for my father to light the fire, for I did not want to live. But, just as I start to curse fate for letting me live, I think of what a chance it was that you and I found each other. Perhaps it was not chance at all. We both despaired, thinking that all those we loved were lost, so we sought our own destruction on the battlefield. But in the end we found that we were not so alone after all, for friends enough remained to rescue us, though we had left ourselves for dead."  
  
"Perhaps the same force that has taken so much away from us has also seen fit to give something back," Éowyn added.  
  
"Now here we stand," Faramir said. He took a deep breath and placed an arm around Éowyn's shoulders. "And I feel as though my life has just begun. Long years of joy and peace lay before us."  
  
"Do not be so certain of your success," Éowyn said, smiling, "you still do not have the permission of my brother. I do not know if he will approve of having a Gondorian as a brother-in-law." Faramir looked at her seriously, so she poked him in the side. Faramir groaned and doubled over. The smile fell from Éowyn's face as she realized that she had hit him near to where he had been wounded. She reached her hand over and placed it on the side of his face, but as she did he sprung up and lifted her from the ground, spinning her around and putting her back down again, but he did not release her from his embrace. They looked into each other's eyes, laughing, and Éowyn, placing both hands on the sides of his face, pulled Faramir closer and kissed him. The kiss deepened and the world around them seemed to fade. Time slowed to a stop, and though beyond the mountains the sun continued to rise, they took no notice of it until the bells of the city began to ring. A great cheer went up in the city as more bells chimed in. Faramir pulled back and kissed Éowyn on the forehead, and both turned to watch the fields below.  
  
"All my life, and for generations before me, the banner of the Steward has flown above this city. I never imagined that it would be flown for me, nor that I would see it fly for the last time. But my heart is glad that the King has returned, for he will heal the wounds of my people and set all things to right. And now I will be free to return to Ithilien, which has been my home since I entered the army, only now we can live there in peace, and all things will grow again."  
  
Éowyn looked up at him as he spoke, studied the features of his face and the depth of his gray eyes. She had often dreamt of love, of finding someone to fill the loneliness that ate at her heart and threatened to consume her during her time at Edoras, watching helplessly as shadow covered the land. In those days she had even tried to convince herself that she did not need love, that she could wind her way through life without it. Éowyn could persuade those around her that she was fine, but in the end she could no longer believe it to be true. Despite Éowyn's determination to accept the life given to her, loneliness had always found its way back to her heart.  
  
She never thought that she would find love here, when the entire world seemed to be on the brink of destruction, or that such a man existed as Faramir. They found each other in a sea of fears, two lost souls clinging to each other in the storm. In the light of Faramir's love, Éowyn found peace for the first time since she was a child. Yet for all this newfound happiness, something inside her told her that her place was in Rohan, with her brother and her people, rather than chasing daydreams in Ithilien. She knew it to be true, and wished that Faramir were instead one of her own people, or that they had been born in less turbulent times. Her duty was to her people, though she could not resent them in their hour of need. The people of Rohan loved and trusted Éowyn, would follow her example, and yet she wanted to run away from their troubles, and find happiness while they struggled. It ate at her heart, but she could not bring herself to tell Faramir. She turned to look at the fields below, unable to put into words what she knew she had to do. Before Éowyn could build a new life for herself, she would first have to help her people to rebuild theirs.  
  
Faramir noticed her sudden silence, but suddenly the people of the city began to shout, signaling the approach of the Lord Aragorn and his companions. Faramir let his concerns go unspoken and they walked down to the broken gate of the city to greet them. 


	2. 2

After the ceremony, as the sun sank behind Mount Mindolluin and the shadows of the afternoon stretched across the land, Éowyn rode beside her brother, Éomer, upon the fields beyond the city gate. Éomer could see a light reflected in his sister's eyes that had been absent for some time. Not since they were children, before the death of their parents, had he seen Éowyn smile so much and he was glad for it, though he could not determine the cause. Somewhere on the long path towards healing she had chosen life; cast aside the shadows that had clung to her heart for so long.  
  
They found themselves on the banks of the river Anduin and dismounted to allow the horses to rest. Éomer eyed his younger sister protectively, worried that her left arm, only recently removed from the sling, was not fully healed. "You did not come to Cormallen," he stated, gazing now into the water. Éowyn's thoughts immediately drifted to her reason for staying in Minas Tirith and smiled involuntarily. Now was certainly not the time to break the news. She bit her lip, but not before she realized that the man next to her was eying her inquisitively.  
  
"I was a prisoner," she shrugged. It was still to soon for Éowyn to tell her brother her real reason for staying. The siblings had not been together since before the final battle, when Éomer had wept over her as she lay wounded in the Houses of Healing. This was certainly not the time for Éowyn to tell her brother of her desire to leave him again. "I think they feared I would find some orc stronghold to attack single-handedly," she continued, "Literally." She waved her newly healed left arm before him.  
  
"Then I suppose I owe the Steward my thanks. It must have taken a company of his soldiers to stop you, if you had your mind set on leaving."  
  
"Something like that," Éowyn said, though she knew that it had only taken one wounded Captain. Éomer knew that Éowyn was holding something back, and it hurt him that she did not come to rejoice with him in Cormallen, but he decided to simply be content that she was all right and did not press the matter further.  
  
"You certainly look well," he said, deliberately changing the subject. "Especially considering." Éomer's face grew more serious as he thought back to the day he had found her near death on the battlefield, not far from where they now stood. "I never doubted your courage," he said quietly, "but when I found you lying there that day." His voice trailed away.  
  
"Éomer, I-"  
  
"You should not have come here with us, Éowyn," Éomer said, again staring across the river. "When our Uncle asked you to stay behind, to lead our people to safety, do you think he did so because he thought you weak, or unable to fight? Nay, Éowyn, it broke his heart to leave you behind, but he had to make a choice. As we rode off to almost certain death, it was in you he placed his hopes for the future of Rohan, the future of our people. It was you that he trusted above all others to lead our people should we not return. But to find you, broken and lifeless on the field, it was as though our last small, sprouting hope for the future had been ripped from the earth. All hope left me, and I too sought the death that I thought had taken the last of my kin."  
  
Éomer sighed, staring down at his feet. He did not really feel angry with his sister, but thinking Éowyn dead had scared him and he did not like to be afraid. "Yet in that, I can understand why you came," Éomer continued. "I do not think that I could have stayed, had our Uncle ordered me thus. I'm sorry, Éowyn. I." Éomer did not want to argue with his sister. "You certainly make it difficult to be a protective older brother," he conceded, letting a small half-smile creep onto his face. "Not to mention the fact that my men will talk of nothing other than how the new king, courageous warrior that he is, was outmatched in battle by his own little sister. Perhaps you should take this," he said as he removed the crown from his head and placed it on hers. Being a few sizes too big, the heavy crown slid down on one side, blocking her right eye.  
  
Éowyn removed the crown and shoved it, rather ungently, into her brother's stomach. "Nay, my liege," she said, laughing, "you can keep that."  
  
"I don't know, wasn't there a time when you wanted to be Queen?" He put his hand on the top of her head and made her nod 'yes.' "Ah, see, I knew you'd agree."  
  
"You'd better stop, if you know what's best for you," she said, ducking from under his hand, "or I will do to you what I did to that Nazgul. Wouldn't want the King of Rohan to be outmatched by his sister a second time now, would you?"  
  
"I don't know about that," he said, re-setting the crown upon his head and turning his nose up in mock-snobbishness. Éomer's face softened, and he put his hand on Éowyn's shoulder. "I am so glad that you are all right," he said quietly.  
  
Éowyn wrapped her arms around her older brother and rested her head on his shoulder as she had when they were young and their parents had been taken from them. Now they found themselves in a strange land, orphaned for a second time and clinging to the only family they had left on earth.  
  
The sun crept down towards the horizon and Éowyn and Éomer returned to the city. But as they rode back and all through a sleepless night, Éowyn felt shadows of doubt circling overhead, gnawing at her heart. For she loved her brother and their people as well as Faramir, and she knew that she would have to choose between them. 


	3. 3

Two days passed and Éowyn found herself in the gardens late at night, staring to the North towards Rohan. She was in turmoil and could not sleep, so she walked outside to clear her head. In only five days Éomer would leave for Rohan, and she still had not found a way to tell her brother of Faramir, nor to tell Faramir of her need to set things to right in her own land. She had promised Théoden to take care of their people in his absence, but instead she had followed him into battle. She could not shake the feeling that she had betrayed him, put her own desires above the needs of her people. How could she do so a second time?  
  
"Do you ever sleep, my lady?" said a voice behind her. Faramir stepped out of the shadows and started to wrap his arms around her waist, but stopped short when he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. "What is it?"  
  
Éowyn looked down, squeezing her eyes shut. She would have to tell him. She leaned against the stone railing and stared through the darkness to the north. Éowyn took a shaky breath. "Faramir. A shadow is over my heart and I cannot hide from it, for love and duty call for me to be in two different places at once. I love you, but I made a promise to my Uncle, before he rode to battle and death upon the fields of Gondor, that I would lead our people to safety, that I would protect Rohan and help to rebuild it in the wake of this great war, should any of us be left to do so. I broke that promise, Faramir. I disguised myself and sought death upon the battlefield, for I was afraid, afraid to be left alive when so much evil had swept over our land. Ashamed to live when everyone I loved had given their lives for Rohan. By the grace of the Valar I lived, but now I must fulfill my promise. To my Uncle, to my people and to my brother. I have to. I have to." Éowyn's voice cracked and the tears rolled freely down her hot cheeks. She put her hand to her throat in an attempt to regain her voice, but there was no need.  
  
"You have to return home," Faramir cut in, pulling Éowyn close and letting her bury her head in his shoulder and cry. He wrapped the ends of his long cloak around Éowyn's back and held her. "For how long?" Faramir asked.  
  
"I don't know. A few months, perhaps."  
  
"Is that all? That is nothing. Did you think that I would be angry with you, or that I would not wait for you? I will miss you, that much is certain, but I am not going to cast you aside over a few months' absence. Sauron's forces spent years destroying our crops and our homes. It will in turn take years to undo this damage, but I would no sooner expect you to turn your back on Rohan's need than I would allow myself to leave Osgiliath in ruins. Do what you can for Rohan, and when your heart is satisfied that your people are safe, you will find me waiting for you in Ithilien."  
  
Éowyn pulled her head back and looked into Faramir's eyes. "Thank you," she said, and kissed him long and deep as the fear and longing poured out of her heart and she was filled only with the thought of him and the need to have him close. They grasped at each other, desperate for contact, finding solace in the nearness of the other. Some time later, their hair and clothing somewhat askew, Faramir and Éowyn came up for air. "A few months, you say, before you return and we can be wed?" He asked, smiling, as they walked hand in hand. "That suddenly seems like a very long time."  
  
The next morning, Éowyn heard a knock at her door and opened it to see Faramir standing before her, formally dressed. His sword hung at his side and his dark hair was newly washed and still wet. "Good morning," he said, smiling.  
  
"Good morning," she replied, "where are you off to?"  
  
"Éowyn, I would like to ask your brother's permission for our marriage myself. Before you leave for Edoras. I do not want him to think I am dishonorable."  
  
Something inside of Éowyn twisted uncomfortably. She wanted Éomer to know, to share the joy that she had found. She wanted these two men that she loved to love each other as brothers. At the same time, Éowyn was surprised to find herself upset with the possibility that her brother would want her to stay in Gondor. She had made a promise to Theoden and she intended to fulfill it. She did not want to be told by Éomer that he did not need her, or that a woman need not worry herself about honor and duty. "Faramir," she finally replied, "please understand that, were I free to choose, I would desire nothing more than to stay by your side forever. But you have to understand that, if my brother were to find out about us, he would, in an effort to make me happy, tell me I was not needed, and return me to Gondor. But I would feel trapped forever in my own cowardice for the oath I did not fulfill and my heart would never be whole again. I fear that my guilt would pollute my love for you and the love we share now would disappear. Please, let me return to my home and help my people. When they are safe and I can love you without guilt, then we shall tell my brother."  
Faramir pursed his lips and looked into Éowyn's eyes for a moment. "As you wish," he finally said. "But I am still not convinced that your brother will not kill me once he finds out that I have been courting his sister for so long without his permission." They both smiled. "I had better go," Faramir added, "I told the King that I would discuss the reconstruction of Osgiliath with him this morning. I will come to see you this evening." With that, he put his hand on Éowyn's cheek and kissed her softly, then left. 


	4. 4

The days passed quickly, it seemed, until the day came for Éomer and Éowyn to depart Gondor. Éowyn had promised Faramir that she would tell her brother of their intended marriage once they reached Rohan. "That is a matter that will require some delicacy. Please allow me to wait a little longer before I tell my brother, who is the only family that remains to me, that I plan to leave him. The loss of our Uncle is still fresh in both our minds. Besides," she added with a smile, "it will be much more difficult for him to kill you from there." In truth, doubt still filled her heart and she was simply not sure if she really had the right to leave her people and her brother for good. But he did not press the matter further, and soon they found themselves again in the gardens of the Houses of Healing, this time to say good-bye. Neither had been able to sleep, and so they found each other at dawn and watched the sun rise once more. The rising sun shone on their faces and began to warm the crisp morning air. Éowyn brought the blue mantle that Faramir had lent to her and placed it in his arms. He unfolded it and wrapped it around her shoulders. "To keep you warm on the journey," he said, and kissed her on the forehead as he clasped it around her neck. "And to remind you that there is one in Gondor who will watch for your return with every sunrise."  
  
Éowyn handed Faramir something wrapped in delicate green fabric. It was a silver pendant in the shape of a horse, the symbol of Rohan. "So that you will not forget the wild shield-maiden of the north."  
  
"It is beautiful, Éowyn," he whispered, looking instead at her.  
  
"Now I must go back to my own land and look on it once again, and help my brother in his labor; but when one whom I long loved as father is laid at last to rest, I will return."  
  
With that, Éowyn kissed Faramir once more on the lips, squeezed his hand and left the gardens. Faramir watched from the walls above the city as Éowyn, Éomer, the sons of Elrond and the riders of Rohan departed. The road was lined with the people of Minas Tirith, and they cheered once more for those who had come at dawn to save their city. Faramir watched until he could no longer make out their forms in the distance and then mounted his own horse and left for Osgiliath. He spurred his horse as fast as it could go, but all the speed in the world would not make time pass more easily. 


	5. 5

The journey was long, for the distance between Minas Tirith and Edoras was great, but Éomer and Éowyn rode mostly in silence. Éomer did not mention Éowyn's cloak, nor that it bore the symbol of Gondor and the Steward, but he did not often take notice of clothing, and Éowyn was glad for his silence on the matter. Instead their attention was drawn to the universal destruction wreaked by the invading armies of Mordor. Although the dead had long since been buried, there still remained, in great piles along the roadside, the wrecked equipment and arms of friend and foe alike. In the towns and villages along their way, the long slow task of rebuilding was still in its early stages and in many places there was only rubble where houses had once stood.  
  
When the group passed over the Mering stream and into Rohan, they found that the situation did not improve, though all were heartened to see their homeland again. The vast fields and farms of the Eastfold had been ransacked by the allies of Sauron. What they did not take had been burned, along with the villages and farmhouses in their path. Many of Rohan's horses had been stolen or slaughtered. There was precious little for the people of Rohan to survive on.  
  
As Éomer and Éowyn rode towards the gates of Edoras, they passed by hundreds of tents set up on the edge of the city. People, mostly women and children, lined the road, cheering as the riders approached. The people were ragged and worn, the refugees of a war that, though over on the battlefield, was just beginning its effects on Rohan. The éored sat proudly upon their horses, but their eyes scanned the crowd eagerly. Éomer watched as fathers, brothers and sons were re-united with their loved ones. When all of the riders had passed, however, many who had waited looked to the horizon in grief, searching for a rider who would never again pass through the gates of the city. The cheers of welcome faded and were replaced by the cries of anguish from those who were forever left behind. Some fell to their knees in sorrow, some clung to loved ones for support and others stared silently into the distance as the realization froze them in place. Éomer, though he wanted to show his people a brave face, was overcome. "I have much to do," Éomer said quietly to his sister as they entered the gates of Edoras.  
  
They reached the top of the hill and dismounted their horses. Éowyn followed her brother up the stairs into the golden hall of Meduseld. Servants had already come to light fires in the basins set around the hall, and a meal had been set for them at the head table. Éomer walked towards the throne, the seat that had been their uncle's. He stopped, staring at the ornate chair before him. "This should have been Théodred's honor."  
  
"We cannot change the past, Éomer. We all wish that this war could have been avoided, that those we love did not have to lay down their lives so that we might see peace again. But looking back and wishing that it could have been otherwise will not return them to us and it will not put food in the mouths of our people. The people love you, Éomer, and they trust you. You are a leader of men, they will follow you now in peace as they did in war."  
  
"I know how to lead men into battle, Éowyn, but I do not know the ways of government in peacetime. I am afraid I never expected this honor to come to me, and spent my time studying war instead of administration. It is good that I have you by my side, or no one should be here to teach me to govern."  
  
"Come and have something to eat, Éomer, you must be as hungry as I am." With that, they both sat down and ate silently in the great hall, surrounded by memory and doubt.  
  
Faramir had promised to write as often as possible and so his first letter arrived just a few days after Éowyn had returned to Edoras.  
  
My Dearest Éowyn,  
I have returned to Osgiliath and walked its streets for  
the first time in peace in many years. Only there are no more  
streets, just ash and broken stone where the streets once were.  
Once there were gardens and great halls, but now there is only  
memory of such things, and hope that we will be able to rebuild  
this city, which was once the Citadel of the Stars, jewel of  
Gondor. King Aragorn has given this task to me, and I hope that  
what I help to create is worthy of our people.  
As you doubtless saw as you left Gondor and entered your own  
lands, many of our farms and villages have been burned, and the  
displaced of our countryside have come to Minas Tirith seeking  
help. Minas Tirith, thankfully, has a great store of food and  
so the King has fed the people and set them to work rebuilding  
our cities. It is amazing how a man's sense of worth can be  
restored when given a full belly and a goal to reach. They have  
found hope amidst the ashes, which in turn gives me hope as  
well. I have done what I can to see to our people's needs.  
This morning, as I walked amidst the ruins, I found a small  
white flower sprouting from between two bricks. Though all  
around it was destroyed, still this small bit of life sprouted  
forth, beautiful, proud and strong: I thought instantly of you.  
This flower shall be the first of a garden that will be named  
for you. My people would have it no other way, for they love  
you almost as much as I do.  
How does this letter find you? I hope that you are well  
and that your brother is also well. I hope that the destruction  
that has swept through our cities has not also devastated your  
homeland. I long to hear from you, just as I long to look upon  
your face again, which is to me like the rising sun. Until  
then, my lady, I wait in darkness, but I will wait forever until  
the sun shines again on Gondor.  
With all my love,  
Faramir  
  
Éowyn was quick to reply, but the distance between Edoras and Osgiliath was great and few were the couriers that could carry their correspondence, and so the letters were far between. Éowyn carried all of Faramir's letters with her, close to her heart, as though that could somehow bring him nearer. As time passed, Rohan's troubles seemed only to grow, as did Éowyn's doubt that she would ever be able to return to Gondor and the man she loved. 


	6. 6

When not occupied with administrative duties, Faramir spent his time walking through the streets of Osgiliath. Though the city was full of people and activity, Faramir was isolated by the formality of rank. One afternoon he came across a group of men had stopped their work to take a drink of water. Faramir knew them well, for they were men of his former company. One man, Hargond, was telling a story while the others listened and laughed. Faramir was reminded of countless nights when he and these men had sat around campfires deep in the woods and shared similar stories. He knew these men, knew the names of their wives and children. They had shared food, bound each other's wounds and buried friends together.  
  
Faramir approached the group and Hargond stopped his story abruptly. All turned to face the Steward and bowed their heads. None spoke. Faramir asked each one how he was and each replied that all was well. He knew that it was not all true, that each had suffered hardships since the war had ended, but he also knew that they would give no other answer. Captain Faramir they knew; Prince Faramir the Steward of Gondor they were not permitted to know. Custom forbade it and Faramir felt the division acutely.  
  
Though he did not speak of it in his letters to Éowyn, Faramir felt the loss of his brother acutely once he reached Osgiliath, for it was in this city that they had fought together. One evening, as he walked through the city, he came to the bridge that crossed the river. It was in this very place, though over a year earlier, that Boromir and Faramir fought side by side to prevent the forces of Sauron from crossing that bridge. They had been pushed from Ithilien and forced back to the river. But at the river they held, and destroyed the bridge in defense of the Western bank of the city. Though they prevented the enemy from crossing the Anduin, the enemy in turn prevented all save the brothers and two of their men from crossing to the West bank, and safety, as well.  
  
As the sun set in Osgiliath, Faramir almost felt as though he could see his brother in the shadows below as he was a year earlier. For a moment they had forgotten all around them, victory, death and destruction, and felt only relief at finding the other alive. For to lose Boromir, Faramir had thought, would be unbearable. In the absence of Denethor's love, Faramir had looked up to his brother almost as a father. But it was only a few days later that their father called Boromir to travel to Imladris to join the fateful quest that would claim his life. As quickly as it had come, Faramir's vision of his brother faded again into the shadows, and he was alone again. 


	7. 7

The next few weeks were busy for Éomer the King and his sister as they began the long process of righting the wrongs of their nation. From north to south, many of Rohan's crops had been burned, and for those that remained too few men had returned from the war to help raise them. What food had been stored away in Meduseld was divided up among the needy of Rohan, but more still came. Every evening, brother and sister would discuss the issues of the day. Éomer felt consumed by the troubles of his people, and worked late into every night to try and find some way to thwart to the famine that seemed inevitable.  
  
Though he was exhausted and sick with worry for his people, Éomer still watched over his sister and could not help but noticing that her spirits had sunk once again, for she rarely smiled any more. He thought back to Gandalf's words to him in the Houses of Healing: "But who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?" Éomer heard these words over and over in his mind, and feared that he was again suffocating his sister, keeping her around only to stand in the shadows to help him, again simply a crutch to a King unable to rule on his own. He knew she deserved more, but Éomer was unsure how best to honor his sister and her dedication to their people.  
  
As spring came to an end, the Lady Arwen and her escort passed through Edoras on their way to Minas Tirith and her impending marriage to King Aragorn. Éowyn had once convinced herself that she was in love with Aragorn, and the mere thought of this elvish princess, his mystical love from afar, had made her mad with jealousy. Now, however, Éowyn found that she had nothing but kind wishes for this woman and her betrothed. What she had thought to be true love was, in the end, a reflection of the fear and loneliness that she had felt at the time. For the first time in a long time, a man had given her respect and admiration and the light of hope that it had lit within her seemed like love. It was not, however, until Éowyn heard Faramir profess his own love for her that she could see through her feelings for Aragorn. It was Faramir that held her heart. As Arwen prepared to depart, Éowyn met her outside of the great hall and asked if there was anything else she needed for her journey."  
  
"Nay, Lady Éowyn. I thank you and your brother for your consideration during our stay. Forgive me if I have not spoken much, but I suppose my thoughts are already in Gondor." Arwen smiled softly.  
  
"Of course, my lady, I understand," said Éowyn, wanting to express her similar feelings on the matter, though she remained silent.  
  
"You will find your way back, Éowyn," Arwen replied, a strange knowing smile upon her lips.  
  
"What do you mean, my lady?" Surely elves could not read people's thoughts. Éowyn suddenly felt flustered. She tried to feign innocence, but felt nonetheless as though the words 'I love Faramir' were written on her forehead. She reflexively felt the pocket where Faramir's letters were kept, in fear that one had fallen out for others to find.  
  
"Very well, then. We will see each other again soon, though, and we will talk then." With that, Arwen departed, though Éowyn still stood in front of Meduseld, unable to speak. 


	8. 8

Éomer was learning the ways of government quickly, but it was Éowyn who understood the problems brought to them and knew the laws and procedures necessary to create solutions. Although the villages and homes that had been burned by their enemies were being rebuilt, spring was ending and still the numbers of crops and the people to grow them were still far too few. One evening as they debated, Éowyn sitting at the base of the throne and Éomer pacing the floor, Éowyn suggested that they forego their pride and ask Gondor for aid. "Their crops did not suffer as ours did, and they have great stores of food in Minas Tirith. Surely they could help us in our hour of need, as we came to them."  
  
Éomer stopped and faced his sister. He knew she was right. "I would like to appoint you as my advisor," he said.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Éowyn, you are already doing the job, I simply think you deserve the title. Valar know the people will trust me more if they know someone who has some idea how to govern is helping to make the decisions."  
  
Éowyn felt as though she had been hit in the stomach, as though the Nazgul had struck her again, for a chill ran through her and she could not force air into her lungs. She was glad that she was sitting down, for the room seemed to spin around her. In one sentence her brother had given her all that she once dreamed of, and now dreaded. She knew that her brother was right, that this was the right thing to do, and that is what hurt her the most. She thought of the good she could do, of the difference she could make as the King's advisor, helping her brother to lead Rohan to a better future. But Éowyn did not want to be needed, she wanted to be free to love Faramir and stay by his side, but how could she abandon her people and her brother in their hour of need? All her life, Éowyn had dreamed of being able to fight, to serve her people. She wanted to feel needed and appreciated. She had always been told 'no.' Now her brother was standing before her, offering her the chance to help her people. She was no longer simply a woman trying to fill a man's role. She was a woman entrusted with making decisions that could help her people. Her brother was offering her the recognition she had always been denied, so how could she refuse? This was another kind of love altogether, but in her heart she knew that her loyalty must lie with her people. Éomer sat down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Would you do this for Rohan?" He asked. She could not speak, but nodded her assent to her brother, forcing a smile and blinking back tears.  
  
It was late and Éowyn, feigning fatigue, retired to her room for the evening. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, trying with all the strength she had not to cry. Tears began to stream down her cheeks and she pressed her fingers to her eyes in an attempt to stop them. It was no use. A muffled, strangled sob escaped her throat and Éowyn lost all composure. She sank to the cold floor, her hands balled into fists in protest of the emotions she could not control. Hours later, Éowyn found the will to climb into her bed and she drifted into an uneasy sleep. She dreamt that she was again in Minas Tirith with Faramir, the day they had first kissed. When their lips touched, however, the sky went dark and the city shook. Buildings crumbled around them and she found herself on the Pelennor fields, the Lord of the Nazgul before her with sword raised. She was not armed and so called out to Faramir, only to find that he was no longer by her side.  
  
Early the next morning, Éowyn, determined to appear calm, rose early and went for a ride. She needed to clear her thoughts, but hours later the choice was still no easier. Duty called Éowyn to Rohan and Faramir to Gondor. Though they loved each other to the depth of their souls, that love could never be enough to solve the problems of their people. Both were called to lives of service, but called by different voices.  
  
Éowyn returned to her room in Meduseld and went to work before her determination faltered. First, she wrote a letter to King Aragorn, asking for Gondor's aid for the coming winter, but it was short, for her mind and heart were elsewhere. Once finished, she pulled out another piece of paper and prepared to write, but the room seemed to spin about her and she could not breathe. The page seemed to get larger and smaller, closer and further away. Before she knew it, her quill had soaked the page with a large spot of ink, and she had to start again. She pulled out yet another piece of paper and began to write:  
  
Dearest Faramir,  
My brother is learning the ways of government, but our people, I  
fear, will not be able to see the coming winter through without  
aid. I have written to King Aragorn for assistance and I hope  
that Gondor will be able to help us in our hour of need. What I  
mean to say is that things are very bad here, and will take a  
great deal of time to mend.  
Again I stray, Faramir, from what I am trying to say, for I am  
afraid to say it and my hand is trembling. The day King Théoden  
left Rohan to ride to his death in battle, he bade me promise  
him that I would return to Edoras and protect our people. In my  
pride and conceit, I followed him into battle, seeking instead a  
famous death. Like a fool, I broke a promise to my Uncle, my  
King. I betrayed my people. Since I have returned to my  
homeland, I have found our people in distress and in danger of  
starvation over the coming winter. I cannot help but think that  
some of this could have been averted had I returned home to  
protect them.  
My brother, not thinking that he would ever be called upon to  
assume the throne, was never taught the ways of government. But  
I, as the King's caretaker, was. My brother has now asked me to  
be his Advisor, and I, out of loyalty and love to my country and  
my brother, have accepted. How can I refuse my people a second  
time? I cannot justify abandoning them, as deep as my love for  
you is.  
I cannot return to you, my love, though it breaks my heart a  
thousand times over. My loyalty must lie first with Rohan: I  
cannot break my promise to Théoden a second time. How can I run  
away from the struggles of my own people? How could I stand to  
live in utter happiness with you whilst they starve? How can I  
abandon my brother, when he must carry such a heavy burden and I  
am the only family that he has left in this world? How can I  
deny my own heart and love for you? I am filled only with  
questions, for I do not understand why I was rescued in battle  
only to be torn in two in peacetime. If I were free to choose I  
would never again leave your side, but I am not free to make  
such a decision.  
I do not ask you to forgive, but I only hope that perhaps  
someday you will understand what I must do now. Forget me, I  
beg of you, for I could not stand to know that such a man as you  
would live out long years alone. Though it has come to nothing,  
I will never regret the time we had, for you saved me in more  
ways than you could ever know.  
I am sorry.  
Éowyn  
  
Éowyn sealed the two letters, one containing hope for her people and the other ending hope for herself. She handed them to a courier and watched as he rode south and disappeared over the rolling hills of Rohan. "It is done," she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and forced the tears and desolation away. "I will not give in to despair," she whispered heatedly. She had mastered emotion before but it took more effort this time. With that, she took a deep breath and returned inside, where her duties as the King's advisor awaited her. 


	9. 9

Summer soon came to Rohan, and with it the sadness and icy exterior that had consumed Éowyn in the days before the war ended. Éomer continued to watch her with concern, but whenever he pressed the matter, she would simply force a smile and tell him that everything was all right. "I fear for our people, that is all," she would say, and so they continued their duties, but spoke no more of personal matters. The issue stood between them like a wall, though neither would acknowledge its presence. Again Gandalf's words ran through Éomer's mind, and he was troubled.  
  
Brother and sister turned their attentions again to the needs of their people. No reply came from Gondor for several weeks and though none was expected so soon the days of waiting seemed long nonetheless. The time came for Éomer to return to Minas Tirith with the escort to bring King Théoden back for burial in Edoras. Early on the morning he was to leave, Éomer went to his sister's room to say goodbye.  
  
Expecting to find her still asleep, Éomer knocked softly and entered the room. Instead he found Éowyn sitting fully dressed atop her bed, staring out the open window, watching as the morning light grew in the East. With her knees pulled up against her chest and her arms wrapped around them, Éomer thought that his sister looked almost like a lost child rather than the hero and leader that she was. She looked up at him and he could see that the light that had shone in her eyes when he returned from Cormallen was gone again. Though she smiled up at him, Éowyn looked weary and worn, the smile forced. "Are you leaving?" she asked quietly, starting to get up. In an instant the sad look Éomer had seen in his sister's eyes disappeared, her countenance replaced by the cold strength that she showed to the world. Contentment was merely a mask that Éowyn wore and Éomer had seen behind it, even if only for a moment.  
  
Éowyn looked at her brother expectantly as she stood up and Éomer remembered that she had asked him a question. "Soon enough," he replied as he stared over her shoulder, wanting to understand what was wrong but not sure how to ask. "You are not happy, Éowyn," he said at length, "You may fool others with your forced smiles, but I can see it in your eyes."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm fine," she replied, crossing her arms and trying to sound natural. Éowyn did not want the wall she had built around herself to crumble, for she felt that it was the only thing holding her up.  
  
"Are you . are you feeling the effects of the battle still? Perhaps you left the care of the healers too soon. You should get more rest," Éomer stammered. Perhaps, he thought, she was plagued by the memory of war, as he had been. As he still was. But Éomer did not know how to put such things into words as his sister could, so his awkward question hung in the air.  
  
"No, Éomer," Éowyn replied sharply, "I told you already: I am fine. Perhaps I will sleep more at ease when I know that our people will not starve this winter. Perhaps then I, too, can ride about the countryside." Éomer felt the cut of her words acutely but said nothing. The tone in Éowyn's voice told him to change the subject or risk retaliation. Éomer was at a total loss. Had his sister instead been threatened by a horde of orcs, then he could have fought his way through with his sword. If he could ride his horse 100 leagues and back to somehow make her happy, it would already be done. Éomer could not, however, use words to ease his sister's pain nor even determine what caused it. It was easier for him to cross the threshold of Mordor than to pierce the icy walls that surrounded Éowyn's heart.  
  
Footsteps echoed down the hall and a rider appeared at the door. "Éomer King, the horses are ready, sir, if you are. Éomer dismissed the man, but still stood awkwardly in his sister's doorway. Silently Éowyn walked up and hugged her brother. "Be careful," she said, "the road to Minas Tirith is still dangerous."  
  
"It is a fine day for a ride, though," Éomer answered, stepping back. "I will see you soon." He placed his hand on Éowyn's shoulder and stared at her, trying one last time to think of the right way to lessen the sadness he had seen in her eyes. "Good bye, Éomer," she answered. With that, it was Éomer who forced a smile as he left. Both brother and sister felt ill at ease, knowing that they had failed to understand each other once more. Éomer reproached himself for leaving without saying what he had wanted to say. He did not know that Éowyn, watching his departure from the doors of Meduseld, was angry with herself for the same reason. 


	10. 10

On the second day of the journey, the sun shone warmly on the fields and Éomer leaned his head back and enjoyed the fresh air, far from the matters of state that awaited him at home. He thought back to the days when he was merely a rider, a soldier with one simple task: fight the enemies of Rohan. There were no law books to read or rules of etiquette to follow, just the simple laws of survival on the plains of Rohan. It was a difficult, dangerous life, but Éomer found that he missed it. Some aspects of it, at least.  
  
Though Éomer had left behind his days as a soldier, he found that the memories of battle were harder to shake off. His dreams were a swirling mist of confusion and terror. Over and over his mind replayed moments of horror and fear, though the line between reality and fiction were blurred. Some nights he would find himself on the battlefield. The clash of arms and the cry of the wounded would fade and Éomer would stop, the tip of his sword coming to rest on the bloody ground. He knew when each of the soldiers beside him would be killed. He looked from man to man an instant before each was struck, as though it was his own glance that signaled their deaths. Often, friends who had survived the battle were killed in Éomer's nightmares and he would wake in a panic, no longer sure of the truth. Sometimes in his dreams Éomer would turn over body after body, and all would bear his own face. Other times he dreamt that the men under his command who had been killed stood around his bed, silently watching, cold eyes filled with accusation. He also dreamt that he could see his sister battling the Witch King. Each time, he would try to run to her aid only to find that he could not move; try to cry out to her only to find that he had no voice. And each time she would be struck dead by her foe as Éomer stood helpless. Though the dream was familiar, he still woke up frightened every time. Night after night Éomer walked the battlefields that had carved their names into his heart with a knife. Only now Éomer feared that his sister was also a captive of such memories and again he felt powerless to help her.  
  
"Éomer King," said one of his men, waking him from his reverie, "a rider approaches from the South." A single man on horseback could be seen in the distance, coming from the direction of Gondor. As the man approached, Éomer ordered his riders to halt. The courier did so as well, his horse breathing heavily.  
  
"I bear a letter for the Lady Éowyn, Éomer King," the courier said, bowing his head.  
  
"Very well. That will be the response from Gondor we have been waiting for," the King replied. Surely his sister would not mind if he read the contents, as he had no desire to wait so long to find out if King Aragorn would aid the people of Rohan in their need. Éomer took the letter from the courier, who looked surprised but made no argument, not wanting go against the will of his King. Éomer opened the letter, but did not notice that the symbol on the seal, a single star, belonged to the Steward of Gondor and not the King.  
  
My Dearest Éowyn,  
Forgive me, but I do not know how to reply to your letter.  
My heart is shattered, and I do not know if I can go on,  
knowing that you will not return to be my bride. Who am I,  
to come between you and your people? But you do not need  
to ask my forgiveness. I, too, understand the sacrifices  
that must be made for the sake of duty and so I could  
never, for one moment, blame you.  
You said that you cannot ask me to wait for you, but I will  
be here, Éowyn, waiting for you, though each day feel like  
an age of men I will be here still, should ever you feel  
that you can return to me. Even should you remain in Rohan  
forever, still I shall wait, and so grow old and die  
dreaming of you.  
I have never felt happiness like I felt when I was with  
you, and longing like I feel every second that I am not at  
your side. If we cannot be together in life, do not doubt  
that we will find each other in whatever lies beyond.  
You have all my love forever,  
Faramir  
  
Éomer finished the letter and let his hand fall into his lap. Finally all the pieces fit together. Éowyn had set aside happiness for herself so that she could serve her people and help her brother find his way. A rush of emotions overcame Éomer. He felt ashamed that he could not lead his people without help. Amazed by his sister's willingness to sacrifice herself once again. Éomer turned his horse around, for he felt the need to return to his sister and tell her that he at last understood. But who was this Faramir, prince or not, to pursue his sister without his consent? Éomer turned his horse towards Gondor again. Éomer's anger quickly died away, as he realized that his sister's happiness now relied on her being in Gondor, far away from him and their homeland. Éomer did not want to be parted from his sister, but he also knew that he could not watch as she sank into despair and unhappiness. For a third time Éomer started to turn around, but then he realized what had to be done. He spurred his horse and called for his men to continue their ride to Gondor, leaving the courier alone in the road without his letter to deliver. 


	11. 11

In the weeks that had passed since reading the letter from Éowyn, Faramir had wandered through his daily tasks as though in a fog. Often he would sit down to work only to find hours later that he had been staring out his window all day. He felt as though the world around him was moving faster than usual and he could not bring it into focus. Papers would pile up on his desk but he could not seem to muster up enough energy to read through them all. His dreams were filled again with flame and smoke, and so he did not sleep.  
  
Of everything that Éowyn had written, the hardest part for Faramir to accept was that he knew that it was nobody's fault. He could not blame her, and so his anger was focused instead on the unseen powers that had seen fit to show him paradise and rip it away a moment later. Éowyn could not leave her people any easier than he could leave Gondor. Faramir had been isolated once more by the responsibilities of his title and that tore him apart. Sitting at his desk in a half destroyed building that had no roof, he pressed his fingers to his eyes but was helpless to hold back the tears that began to stream silently down his face. 


	12. 12

Soon after Éomer had arrived in Minas Tirith, it came time for King Théoden's escort to depart for Edoras. Several hours before the group was to depart, King Éomer requested an audience with King Aragorn. When he entered, he found Aragorn sitting not upon his throne, but instead at a smaller table to the side and he stood up and motioned Éomer to sit with him. "King Éomer, I am truly glad to see you looking well, though I will have to ask you not to 'request' an audience again, for I always have time for friends. Besides, it does not look good to have another King waiting in line outside.  
  
"I am sorry I had not replied earlier to your request, but I preferred to speak with you in person. I am afraid that food is a paltry thanks to give for saving Gondor, my friend. Had it not been for the courage and sacrifice of you and your countrymen, Minas Tirith would surely have fallen and hope for me and my people would have faded."  
  
"My liege," replied Éomer, relieved though still uncomfortable with the idea of asking another man for help. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am afraid that Rohan was hit very hard by this war, for we lost both our crops and the men to harvest them. I do not know how we can ever repay such a debt."  
  
"Nonsense, I will not hear more on the subject," Aragorn smiled. "You need only tell us how much you need and it will be done. Shall we prepare to depart, then?"  
  
"King Aragorn," the younger man said, "I am afraid I must request something from you in addition to food for my people." Aragorn looked at Éomer inquisitively. "It concerns Prince Faramir and my sister." 


	13. 13

Faramir, who had come to Minas Tirith to look after the city while Aragorn was away, was called to speak with King Aragorn as well. Faramir did as he was told, but there was no joy in it for him. Though he had only spent a short time there with Éowyn and a lifetime there before they had met, everything in Minas Tirith now reminded him of her. As Faramir entered the tower hall, he passed by Éomer, who was exiting the hall after meeting with Aragorn, and it seemed as though the man was eyeing him suspiciously, though Faramir thought that perhaps it was his imagination. Again reminded of Éowyn, Faramir stared at the wall behind the King with distant eyes.  
  
"Ah, Prince Faramir. I am afraid I will have to ask you to pack quickly and escort us to Rohan," the King said, a half smile creeping onto his face.  
  
Faramir's face went white in an instant and his eyes suddenly focused on the older man's face. "But my King, surely my duties are here. There will be much to look after while you are gone."  
  
"I think things will be just fine without us for a little while."  
  
"Why the sudden change, then, my lord? If I may ask." Faramir looked as though he were in search of a place to hide.  
  
"I have received word from Lady Éowyn of Rohan," the King paused momentarily before continuing and Faramir's face seemed to go whiter at the mention of Éowyn's name, though perhaps it was only Aragorn's imagination. "She says that they require assistance, as they have paid heavily in the war and find themselves without the means to see their people through the winter. I will not be able to stay in Rohan long, as I must escort my friends home, so I would like you to negotiate on Gondor's behalf, as you have a good idea of how much we have to spare." Faramir did not react, but instead continued to stare at the King. "Are you all right, Faramir?" King Aragorn asked, leaning back in his chair and seeming quite content, "It is good that you are coming along, it looks as though you could use some sun, my friend."  
  
Faramir bowed and consented, then was excused to gather his belongings and have his horse saddled for the trip. "Do they conspire to torture me?" he wondered to himself as he left. 


	14. 14

The long journey from Minas Tirith to Edoras was made longer by the revered burden that they carried. With Éomer and his éored came the King and Queen of Gondor, Merry, King Théoden's esquire, as well as Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Legolas, Gimli, Gladriel and Celeborn, Elrond, Prince Imrahil, Prince Faramir and many other Knights, elves and honored guests. On the nineteenth day of traveling, the group finally reached the gates of Edoras.  
  
The Golden Hall was a flurry of activity to make the final arrangements for the arrival of the guests and their honored burden. Éowyn, though kept busy by affairs of state and preparations for the group, remained quiet and kept to herself whenever possible. When King Éomer and the guests arrived, the people of Rohan lined the streets to honor the late King Théoden.  
  
Éowyn stood outside of the golden hall and watched as the entourage approached, looking for her brother among them. Éowyn had been given a list in advance of everyone who was to accompany the King, but her eyes instantly went to the one whose name had not been mentioned before. From a distance she recognized Faramir and saw that he alone was looking up at her. Éowyn's eyes went wide and the blood drained from her face. In near panic, she turned and went back inside. "Do they conspire to torture me?" she thought to herself. Éowyn paced the floor, putting one hand to her forehead. Willing herself calmer, the young woman took a deep breath and opened the door once more. Éomer and his guests were making their way up the stairs and Éowyn greeted them one by one, trying hard to look at them and not Faramir, who entered last. At last he came up the stairs and stopped at the doorway into the hall. Both looked at each other for a few long moments as though they expected lightning to strike them down at any second. Éowyn could feel her heart racing, though she could not think of anything to say. "My lord," was all she finally managed to utter, bowing her head in greeting and looking intently at her own feet. Éowyn looked back up into Faramir's eyes, though neither could think of anything adequate to say.  
  
"Éowyn, are you going to shut the door or not?" Éomer finally interrupted, "It is very windy outside and I would rather not blow all of the food off the table." Like the breaking of a twig, Éowyn's attention was snapped suddenly back to the world around her. She inhaled sharply, her first breath in what had surely been hours. Everyone was seated at the long table except for her and Faramir. Without a word, Éowyn and Faramir went to their places: Éowyn next to her brother and Faramir next to Prince Imrahil. At Éomer's bidding, everyone began to eat.  
  
Éowyn felt as though she were in a haze throughout the meal, though she tried to carry on a conversation with those around her. Éomer was telling her of his journey and though she was looking at his face, her attention was focused on another man, one that she would not let herself stare at. Éowyn smiled and nodded at what she guessed were appropriate points in the conversation but she had not the slightest idea what her brother was telling her. She was relieved when the meal was over and excused herself as soon as was proper. She walked down the long hallway, intending to go out the back door for some fresh air, but then realized that she did not have a coat and turned back towards her own room.  
  
As Éowyn rounded the corner, she found herself face to face with Faramir. She drew in a sharp breath involuntarily and swallowed hard. It was difficult enough to refuse Faramir when he was far away in Gondor; she was not sure if she could do the same in his presence. Éowyn made an attempt to walk by him slowly, but Faramir took her by the hand as she passed and she froze in place. "Don't go," he whispered, leaning towards her golden hair.  
  
Hot tears streamed down Éowyn's cheeks and she covered her eyes with her free hand. She gulped down a sob, "I cannot come back to you, Faramir. I cannot leave my people," she whispered, her voice cracking.  
  
"I know, Éowyn, I know." He reached his hand up and wiped the tears from her face. Éowyn looked up at Faramir and saw that he was crying as well. She turned and kissed the hand that was upon her cheek, placing her own on top of it. Unable to hold back any longer, Éowyn wrapped her arms around Faramir's back and hugged him for a moment, breathing in his scent as though it were some drug she had been denied. She then reached one hand up through his dark hair and kissed him on the lips. The taste of his mouth and the feel of his hair between her fingers and his strong hands on her back brought back a rush of emotion and Éowyn felt that she could live her entire life in that moment. In silent consent, both agreed to continue their love affair in the short time that was given to them, though they risked breaking their hearts twice over when duty called for them to part once more.  
  
Hearing footsteps approach from down the hall, Éowyn pulled Faramir into her room and shut the door. Éowyn put her finger to her lips to signal silence, but then giggled and kissed Faramir quickly on the lips. There was a knock at the door. "Éowyn?" It was Éomer. Éowyn put her finger to her lips again and then walked to the door, opened it and then closed it quickly behind her again.  
  
"Yes, Éomer?" she replied, sounding a bit more cheerful than she meant.  
  
Éomer seemed surprised by her sudden change in mood. He cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyes darting to the door, then back again. "I was going to ask you if you were all right," he said after a moment, "but you seem to be feeling better." He scratched his head where the crown rested upon it, looking again at the door to Éowyn's room and then her poor attempt at feigning innocence. Her hair, which had been tied back neatly, was now disorderly and partially down. Éomer's eyes went wide. Éowyn raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, I should get back to the guests," Éomer finally said, then turned to go. "I'm glad you're better," he said, as though in shock, to the hallway in front of him as he left.  
  
Later that night, when everyone else had gone to bed, Éowyn and Faramir left Edoras by a path behind Meduseld and walked, hand in hand, out to the tall grasses nearby. They lay there watching the stars as they wheeled overhead, Éowyn's head resting on Faramir's shoulder. They spoke of their time apart and of times together, but they did not speak of the future. As the stars began to fade and light began to grow in the east, the couple returned in secret to Meduseld. Faramir walked Éowyn back to her room and kissed her good night. "Is this wrong?" Faramir said quietly as she began to shut the door.  
  
"No," she replied, "The whole world is wrong. This is the only thing in it that seems right." With that, Éowyn ran her hand along Faramir's cheek and then shut the door. "Hang the future," Éowyn thought to herself as she leaned against the door, "For a few days, at least."  
  
Later that morning, Éowyn woke up feeling refreshed, despite only a few hours of sleep, and joined her brother at breakfast. "Good morning," she said cheerfully, patting Éomer on the shoulder.  
  
"Morning," he replied, looking up at her briefly before returning his gaze to what he had been reading. As Éowyn ate Éomer looked at her through the corner of his eyes, a funny half-smile on his face, but whenever she looked over at him he was engrossed in his papers once again. They sat there for a few minutes, eating in silence until Éomer, without looking up, said, "You are no longer my Advisor, Éowyn."  
  
Éowyn did not think that she could possibly have heard him right. "What?" she replied.  
  
"You heard me. I simply cannot allow the King's Advisor to behave in such a manner. It is embarrassing."  
  
Éowyn's face turned red. What had he seen? Why would he do such a thing? "What 'manner,' Éomer?" she stood up, her temper ignited, "what are you suggesting?" She knew exactly what he was suggesting.  
  
Éomer finally looked up from the document he was pretending to read, though he really had no idea what was on it. "It is quite simple, Éowyn. I cannot allow my sister, my only family, whom I love dearly, to make herself unhappy for my sake. So I have decided to release you from my service. You are no longer the King's Advisor; you are now 'Ambassador to Ithilien'. It is a new position. I hope you enjoy it there, for I am sending you into exile." Quite proud of himself, Éomer grinned and looked up at his sister.  
  
"You knew? About Faramir? But how." She was incredulous.  
  
"Éowyn, I'm the King, my spies are everywhere." Éowyn stared him down. "Actually, I opened this by mistake," he stood up and handed her the letter from Faramir. "Sorry, I thought it was about the provisions from Gondor."  
  
"You would open a letter about food," she shot back.  
  
"Come now, that is hardly a complimentary thing to say to a brother, especially since I am still considering whether I should kill this Faramir, prince or no, for daring to corrupt the sister of the King without my permission."  
  
Éowyn considered hitting Éomer in the stomach, but hugged him instead. She was elated, but then forced herself to calm down and step back from her brother. "I can't do this, Éomer, I can't break my word and fail our people a second time."  
  
"Fail? Fail? When could you possibly have failed us a first time, let alone a second? First you killed the Witch King, saving hundreds of our people, maybe more. Then you took a thickheaded soldier and turned him into some semblance of a ruler." Éomer took his sister by the shoulders. "All the time, though, I have watched you decline into sadness and wondered what I could possibly do to help. Éowyn, I have never seen you so happy as you were when you were in Minas Tirith. When returned home and you became unhappy again it kept me awake at night wondering why. I think I speak for all of Rohan," he added, smiling, "when I say that you have earned your right to happiness in this world. It would kill me to know that I was responsible for your sorrow."  
  
"Are you sure this is all right?" she asked, "I could not dream of leaving you if you still needed me."  
  
"I am a leader of men!" Éomer said, quoting his sister, "I only pretended to need your help to be nice." Éomer put his hand on his sister's shoulder, "Actually, I could never have come this far without you, but with all that I have learned and now that we have been promised enough food to see our people through the winter, I think that I can manage all right. Besides, King Aragorn and I have already agreed on a plan. Faramir has been assigned the task of negotiating the food agreement for Gondor, and I have assigned you to negotiate on behalf of Rohan. Aragorn and I estimate it will take several months at least for the negotiations to finish, during which time you may marry here, if you please. After that I will, however, have to send you to Gondor to carry out your duties in Ithilien, though you may return and report to me whenever you wish."  
  
Éowyn was still not sure if all that she heard her brother saying were true. She hugged him again. "I am going to miss you," she whispered.  
  
"Éowyn, I thought I lost you that day on the battlefield, but in truth I had abandoned you long before. You took on the troubles of our Uncle, of our people, without complaint. Though you carried the weight of the world on your shoulders, it was you that spurred me on when everything seemed dark and hopeless. You felt alone and I did not see it, I was not there for you.  
  
"In Faramir you found happiness again, and I saw a light in your eyes that I had not seen in years. I thought that it was the war's end that had brought you back from the shadows. I did not realize that I, in my need, was dragging you away from that happiness once again. You have sacrificed enough for Rohan, sister, and I could not bear to allow you to sacrifice yourself once more. Do not think you can fool me with forced smiles and confident words. I love you, Éowyn, and I want you to be happy, wherever that requires you to be."  
  
"But Gondor is so far away, Éomer, when will we ever see each other?"  
  
"It is Gondor, Éowyn, not Númenor. I think we will manage. Now, if you will excuse me, I had better go ensure that this betrothed of yours is worthy, though he did not see fit to ask my permission first." With that, Éomer left the room and Éowyn was left, bewildered, in the great hall.  
  
Éomer found Faramir in his room, looking out over the plains of Rohan as he wrote at the small desk by the window. Éomer knocked to announce his presence. Faramir stood and turned. "King Éomer," he said, "good morning."  
  
"Good morning, Prince Faramir. I would have a word with you, if you have a moment."  
  
"Of course, my liege."  
  
Both men stood awkwardly in silence until Éomer continued. "I do not know what the customs are in Gondor, but perhaps you are unaware of ours." Faramir raised his eyebrows. "If you intend to marry a woman of my country, Faramir, it is tradition that you ask the permission of her father or, if the woman has none, then her brother. Did no one inform you of this?"  
  
"My lord, you have been misinformed, for Lady Éowyn has refused my offer and will not be returning with me to Gondor. We do not plan to marry as we both are called by duty to our own homelands."  
  
"Hmmm," Éomer said thoughtfully, "I suppose that is a problem, then. There is something you really should know about my sister, Faramir: once she gets an idea into her head, it is nearly impossible to convince her otherwise. She is too logical: her head always wins out over her heart."  
  
"I did realize that," Faramir replied, smiling sadly at the ground.  
  
"I always thought my sister content before the war. If there is one thing that Éowyn can do flawlessly, it is convincing people that she is all right when she is not. She had been overseeing the rule of Rohan for many years, watching helplessly as our Uncle faded. She was here, while I rode around the countryside thinking that I was the hero.  
  
"I did not see the despair in her eyes until after she was wounded. My sister had been unmasked, and the darkness that surrounded her frightened me. I promised myself that I would not allow her to be pushed aside again. When we returned from Cormallen, however, I found that she had changed. My sister has not been that happy since we were children, though I only realized it when I saw her in Minas Tirith. She was not pretending- she was genuinely happy, though she did not tell me why." Éomer looked at Faramir with a wry smile.  
  
"When we returned here," Éomer continued, "all of that changed, and she hid her feelings again, but this time I could see through the mask. I will not be the reason for my sister's unhappiness, Faramir. She has sacrificed more than enough for me, for our Uncle and for our people. I saw my sister in Minas Tirith for the first time in many years, and that is the sister I want to see again, even if it means I rarely see her at all."  
  
"Éowyn is not easily dissuaded once she has made up her mind," Faramir replied.  
  
"This is true, but I would not allow her head to win out over her heart this time. I named her 'Ambassador to Ithilien,' and though I would like to say that I won an argument with my sister, I believe that it was instead her feelings for you that persuaded her to go along with my scheme. So, Prince Faramir, though you failed to ask me yourself, you have my permission to wed my sister under one condition: that you always keep her as happy as she is now. Break this vow, and I will find you."  
  
Éowyn, not having seen her brother or her betrothed for some time, walked towards Faramir's room. Half expecting to hear either yelling or the clash of swords, she pressed her ear to the door, which popped open slightly, the latch swinging down noisily. Éowyn froze. Suddenly the door was flung open and she looked up to see her brother staring down at her, holding the door. "Éowyn," he said, "I knew you'd come sooner or later. Well." he turned towards the other man, then back towards Éowyn, though the two lovers were looking only at each other. Éomer, feeling awkward, scratched his head. "Lord Faramir, I will speak with you later, but I, uh, really must get back to our guests." With that, Éomer walked out of the room. "I suppose he'll do," he whispered as he passed his sister. Éomer, quite proud of himself, smiled as he walked back towards the great hall.  
  
Éowyn and Faramir were left together in the room. For a moment neither moved and they stood there in disbelief, smiling at each other from a distance. Then they laughed and Éowyn ran into Faramir's arms. Faramir picked up his betrothed and spun her in a circle. As they kissed, golden sunlight streamed in through the open window and shone upon them both. It was a new day. 


End file.
